


Reparations

by Kammy



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Failed Relationships, M/M, Past Mutilation, Past Violence, Scarring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-20
Updated: 2015-03-29
Packaged: 2018-03-18 19:44:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3581619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kammy/pseuds/Kammy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sasaki Haise meets a scarred stranger who doesn't seem to want to look him in the eye. But of course he's not really a stranger, and Haise doesn't feel inclined to let him disappear from his life as though he were one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Despite me labeling this as M/M, the relationship and feelings in this story are implied more than anything else. I considered putting it as Gen and labeling it as a friendship, but romantic tension was my intention so, there you go. If anyone thinks this is too subtle to be M/M, please tell me.

“I don’t want to remember. That man I see… in my dreams, with the white hair… that’s myself, isn’t it? A monster." He swirled his glass around lightly, so as not to spill. Maybe it was a nervous gesture on his part, or maybe just an absentminded one. He frowned, and looked at his reflection in the black coffee. “After all, what could be worth remembering?”

The one he cared about most smiled sadly back at him in response. His heart—which sat half-eaten on the middle of the table—started to bleed.

“Dumbass,” said the blue rabbit, whose face was covered by a white rabbit mask. “Forgetting is just like abandoning.”

“I’m sorry…”

“But then, don’t you sometimes have to abandon one thing to save the other?”

The glass clinked as he placed it on the table, and the dream ended. Haise woke up. He could remember the taste of the coffee. He could remember the shade of the rabbit’s fur, both when it was white and when it was blue. He could remember the way the blood dripped on the table. But he couldn’t remember a single feature on that person. The one sitting across from him, the one his sleeping brain had casually labelled, “the one he cared about most.”

He sighed, and pulled himself out of bed.

* * *

 

Haise didn’t have to be an observant person to sense how the atmosphere changed when he opened the door to the :re café that day. When he’d looked in the window he’d seen Kirishima’s ribs shaking with laughter. He’d found himself stopping for a moment at the sight, a smile pulling at his lips. Haise’s eyes had wandered to find her smile directed at a customer, a man whose back shook with the same infectious giggles.

Then he walked in. Kirishima’s joy died the moment his eyes met hers.

“Sasaki!” she blurted.

The man at the counter’s laughter stopped right as she said that. Haise couldn’t see the man at the man’s face, but he could see how he stiffened and quieted down. The ghoul investigator’s eyes darted from one to the other. “Er, sorry,” he said, nervously, “Did I come at a bad time?”

“N-no,” Kirishima’s arms suddenly didn’t know what to do with the tray she was holding. Her eyebrows shot up anxiously, “Just…” Her eyes flicked to the quiet man at the counter, but only for a moment. Then she put on her best smile. “…what can I get you today?”

He didn’t like the smile but he stepped forward. “Coffee. Uh, black. As usual.”

He glanced at the man at the counter as he walked up. His head was shorn practically to the point of baldness, only tiny bits of blond fuzz sticking to his scalp. The man’s loose coat closely concealed his form, but the limbs Haise could see were worryingly thin. He didn’t know when his glance had turned into a stare, but the way the man twitched when he approached broke him out of it. He glanced nervously away for a moment, then turned to the man in the brown coat.

“Hey,” he said, not sure what prompted him to speak, “Sorry to-”

The man shot up and bolted before Haise could finish his sentence. In a moment, he was out the door but not before he saw a glimpse of his face. It was enough to make his mouth drop. Crescent shaped marks, white with age and rough with indications of healed stitches, on his lip, on the edge of his jaw, on his nose. Large, indented patches of white around his cheek, like patches of skin had been ripped off. Scars. Bite marks.

Tiny metallic bells rang as the door slammed shut. Kirishima swept past him and ran after the man, only to come back seconds later.

“Sorry about that,” she breathed. “I… are you alright?”

Haise flinched. Then he felt the tears stinging his eyes and blinked them back. He didn’t know the man. He’d barely seen him and heard his voice for about a second. And yet…

_What a nice laugh. I wish I could hear it again._

* * *

 

“Who was he? The man that was here last time?”

Haise had waited until his next visit to ask Kirishima, but she only shrugged. “Occasional customer.”

“Oh. Are you two…?”

“Huh? Oh no. He’s not even a regular. I can’t even remember his name. We just got chatting before you arrived.”

The image of Kirishima and the scarred man shaking with mutual laughter flashed through his head. _Liar_. But he smiled. “Oh, okay. I was just wondering. You seemed… happy.”

She shrugged lightly. “He seems like a good guy.”

Something inside Haise wrenched but he smiled. “Well hopefully I’ll run into him again.”

He barely caught the way her smile stiffened. He dropped the subject and instead turned his thoughts back to the stranger.

Poor clothes. Thinness. Heavy facial scarring. Haise thought of how the man had jerked away. Ashamed of his appearance? The answer clicked immediately: _Someone who’ll only go to the café at the earliest hours, when he’s sure no one will look at him_. That made sense. He’d seen the scarred man early in the morning that first time, one unfortunate hour when Haise couldn’t sleep. An hour in the morning when the café hadn’t had any customers besides Haise and the man himself. So that was it, the answer.

(What was the question? One that he hadn’t realized he’d been asking himself: _How do I find him again?_ )

* * *

 

He didn’t meet the man in the café like he’d imagined. Instead, he met him on the sidewalk, halfway down the block leading to its entrance.

The scarred man didn’t have a chance to hide his face this time. Instead, he froze on the street. He saw the man’s throat tighten with a gulp, and his hands grip the strap of the bag slung around his shoulder. Haise stopped with him. He looked at him for a moment, soaking in every detail of his scarring. His blood rushed so he could feel it pounding in his ears. It suddenly struck him—much too late—that he’d planned and fantasized about meeting this man again and he didn’t know why, or what he would do now. Any words he’d hoped to say suddenly stuck in his throat.

They stood about ten feet away from each other, staring. Then the man turned away and suddenly Haise had his voice back.

“Wait! Stop!” _What if this is the last time I see him?_ “Please! Just a-”

The scarred man flinched under Haise’s grasp. The ghoul investigator hardly remembered sprinting up to grab a hold of him. The man didn’t struggle, but turned as much of his face away as possible; his voice came out thick but calm. “Please let go.”

“I—of course.”

The scarred man’s composure broke once the grip lifted. He jerked away, stumbling a few steps away before stopping to support himself against the wall. As the ghoul investigator watched, his collected but heavy breaths turned into shallow hyperventilating.

“Stay away,” he gasped the moment Haise walked up to help, “Please.” So Haise stopped, and stayed to watch the man curl up and fight his own breathing.

“Should I call an ambulance?” “Is there anyone you want me to call?” Both questions were met by a shake of the head. He didn’t know how long it had been when the man’s breathing slowed and he stood up shakily. Haise wanted to reach for him, wanted to pick him up and hold him tight. But he’d been told to stay away. The man’s breathing stilled at last. He walked a few paces away, then turned back. His gaze held Haise’s.

“Now,” he said, his voice still shaky, “What did you want?”

For some reason the question hurt. Haise’s chest ached, and his suddenly parched throat tried to protest but all that came out was— “I did this to you, didn’t I?”

The man’s face scrunched up a little. “You don’t remember?”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he croaked. “I’m sorry.”

He tried to cover his face. It helped. He calmed himself down, and looked back up at the man through blurry vision that cleared with a blink. He couldn’t see the expression on the other man’s face.

“What can I do to make it up to—not that anything could, but… please. Tell me what to do.”

“You don’t have to do anything.”

“ _Please_.”

He could see more of the man’s expression, all worried lines underneath the scarring. “If it makes you feel better, then… we can meet again. To talk.”

Haise gulped, and nodded. He opened his mouth to ask more, but before he could the man was gone, ducked into some alley and leaving only the sound of panicked, running footsteps.

* * *

 

The scarred man found him so easily that Haise didn’t know whether to be scared or not. It took them about five minutes to arrange a meeting place: not at :re, but in the sunshine at a crowded park. The scarred man had turned down his offer for food, along with any suggestion for meeting place Haise had until he flat out admitted: “I wouldn’t feel comfortable at any place you pick.”

Haise nodded at that and swallowed the lump that formed in his throat. At the park, they sat at opposite ends of a bench.

“Just this distance away, no closer,” the scarred man said, “We can hear each other this way.”

For some reason the words stuck like a dagger in the back, but Haise smiled as best he could. “I understand.”

There were a million questions Haise needed to ask and they all died in his throat. He started with one he hadn't intended.

“What’s your name?”

“Nagachika Hideyoshi. You’re…?”

“Sasaki Haise. Nice to meet you.”

The scarred man proceeded to barrage him with questions before he could open his mouth again.

“Where do you work? What have you been doing in your free time? Have you been visiting bookstores? Have you felt comfortable with the people you’re around? How have you been sleeping?”

A bit of panic surged through him, but he answered with a smile. He glossed over his work at the CCG, stumbled a bit over the more personal questions. Did he feel comfortable with the people he worked with? He loved them; what else could he know? They were all he had. But there was always that uneasiness beneath the surface. He found himself touching his chin.

Nagachika’s eyes seemed to see through him, and his scarred lips twisted into a sad frown. Haise looked away and chuckled nervously. “These aren’t the sort of questions I was expecting from you.”

Nagachika shrugged. “It’s what I need to know.”

They continued to talk, and Haise took advantage of the sunlight to examine the man’s face. He thought of scars he’d seen sported by handsome actors in films: thin white lines across the cheek or jawbone, not enough to take away any attractiveness but enough for the added allure of mysterious tragedy. Nagachika’s scars were nothing like that. His face had been destroyed, ripped apart so that it could only be put together in a lopsided fashion. Haise’s eyes dwelled on each mark. Each lopsided white patch where skin had been torn off. Each branch of stitch-textured scars where they’d pieced him together.

Haise’s throat tightened. “So… so are you and Kirishima…?”

“Kirishima? You mean Touka?”

He swallowed. “She said you didn’t know each other, but I thought maybe she was lying to keep me away. It wouldn’t be unreasonable.”

Protect the one you love by lying to the ghoul who’d attacked him. It made too much sense. Nagachika didn’t answer, so Haise continued. “I just want to know if I should stop going to :re. If you two are dating then-”

“Wh-what?! No, man! How’d you even… no. We’re just friends, I guess. I don’t even know if I could call it friends actually.”

“Really? You seemed happy together.”

“Yeah. But it’s not so much friendship as… what can I call it? Shared pain? I mean, we don’t see each other much, but we understand each other. I guess it’s not really friendship or anything by most people’s standards but…it’s important to me,” he smiled bitterly, “Us rabbits have got to stick together, you know? Loneliness isn’t good.” 

“Then, do you have a girlfriend or…?”

A pained frown pulled at Nagachika’s face. Haise winced. Why? Why did he feel the need to ask that? He added, “Or, just any friends. I mean—I just.” He stopped himself.

“It’s fine. But I’d rather not answer that.”

A breeze and a rustle of leaves filled the silence between them. Behind them echoed the sound of children playing. Nagachika interrupted it.

“Will you be alright?”

Haise blinked at the question. “I suppose?”

“You should go to the bookstore more often. And you should definitely keep going to :re. If you can’t feel good with the people you work with, then you should try to talk to people outside of it. Drink lots of coffee and make sure you eat enough.”

He flinched at the last sentence. “But—but you know what that means.” Nagachika stood up, looking away so that Haise could only see the edge of his tattered cheek and the snub of his nose.

“I should be going now.”

“Wait!” Haise jumps up, speaking before he can stop himself. “Could we do this again? Sometime?”

He wanted to smack himself for asking. He had no right to ask anything of Nagachika—a victim—no right to anything but accepting whatever punishment the man should have required of him. To beg for another meeting for his own satisfaction was despicable. Still, he met the man’s eyes pleadingly.

“Sure,” came the reluctant response.

“Right here again?”

A nod.

“When? Can you come Friday, same time?”

Another nod. Haise couldn’t stop himself from beaming.

“I—thank you.”

“No problem.”

“I’m glad to have met you, Nagachika.”

The scarred man drew up his shoulders a little at that. “Yeah.”

Haise watched until he had disappeared into the distance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's more to this story written, if anyone cares to read it. Perhaps I'll update next week.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I ended up updating a lot faster than I expected. Huh. In addition, I edited one or two things last chapter, including the tags.
> 
> Hope you enjoy.

Nagachika didn’t sit as far away on the bench the next time. Haise noticed immediately, and felt he’d melt with joyous relief.

They started off by exchanging small talk, things about books and what Haise’s coworkers were like. Nagachika asked the same kind of questions: personal but not prying, concerned but delivered in a cautious tone of voice. It all was pleasant—right until he offered to pay any medical costs the scarred man had. Nagachika refused, his face going stony at the suggestion.

“They’re already covered.”

“Then I should offer you some kind of compensation.”

“It isn’t necessary.”

“But-”

“Please. I don’t want you to give me money.”

Haise didn’t have any words for that.

“Oh. I’m sorry.” His heart ached terribly, but he smiled. “I understand. I… should have realized.”

_I should have realized that however kind you’re being now, you probably hate me._

“Hey, don’t give me that face,” Nagachika’s voice dropped to a gentle volume, “I’m not trying to punish you or anything. I just can’t take any money for personal reasons. Okay?”Nothing but kindness and a sprinkling of sadness reflected in those brown eyes.

_Do you hate me? How can you look at me like that when you hate me?_

Sharp pain split through his head. For a moment he thought he could see Nagachika smiling: bright and carefree. He clutched his head for a moment. He looked up. The smile was gone—had never been there, it seemed. Still. _Still._

“What’s wrong?” Nagachika asked.

“Migraine,” he replied. Then, he ran his hands over his own hair as a gesture. “Your hair.”

“What about it?”

“I… it seems like a bit short.”

Nagachika blinked, and nodded. “I did have it longer for a while. Spiked it for a while even. But it was too much of a hassle. And now it’s not like it’s going to make me look any less ugly so I figured I shouldn’t even bother.”

“You’re not ugly.”

The scarred man snorted. “Yeah, right. I know you’re kind and all, but that’s taking it a bit far. I’ve had kids cry because they had to be in the same room as me, you know? I don’t need anyone to tell me I’m Hide-ous.”

Nagachika forced out a laugh at his own joke. Haise frowned. Hideyoshi. Hide-ous. He got it, but his frown only deepened. He’d never thought he’d encounter a pun that felt distasteful to him.

“You’re not hideous, you’re...” _perfect, the best, amazing_ —ouch, where was all that coming from? “You’re very… good-looking.”

“Don’t do that, man. Come on. Don’t be fake. I know that there’s nothing here that doesn’t make you think ‘Quasimodo.’”

“That’s not true!” Haise insisted. He looked over Nagachika’s face. “There’s your…” suddenly his eyes trailed down from the branch like scars right down to the other man’s lip. “…smile.”

He’d never given particular thought to the scars on that particular area. There was another half-moon crease there right in the shape of a bite, plus an indentation where the tiniest bit of skin seemed pulled off the point it lacked the fullness of the rest. He’d noticed it before. What it meant though suddenly slammed into him like a freight train. There was one possible way for scars like that to occur. Someone had to have bitten right through his lip. Someone— _Haise_ —must have leaned in with all the intimacy reserved for a lover’s kiss, brushed his lips against the other’s and then bit. Someone— _Haise_ —must have taken that soft lip in his teeth and ripped.

Someone had done that.

_He_ had done that.

And as he thought about it, it suddenly came real. Each detail, each sensation down to the shit-smell of the sewers and the rusty smell of blood, right down to the sticky, warm liquid running down his face and the screams ringing in his ears. He doubled over, burying his face in his hands. He shook for a moment, trying to wrestle back his sobs. He choked on them instead.

A hand touched his shoulder. “Hey. Look at me.”

Haise obeyed. Nagachika looked down at him softly, offering the tiniest of smiles.

“I’m a monster,” the investigator mumbled, looking away.

“No.”

“I am. I am,” he whimpered, “I’m horrible. What have I done?”

Nagachika’s grip tightened on his shoulder.

“I’m disgusting. I don’t deserve to live.”

“Don’t say that! Do you realize how much trouble I--certain people have gone through to keep you alive?”

Haise sniffled.

“It wasn’t your fault. None of it. Please don’t blame yourself. You weren’t in your right mind.”

He gripped Nagachika by the arms, still looking down. He closed his eyes. That way, he could see Nagachika, but not the one in front of him with the hunch shoulders and the scars that would never heal. He saw longer hair. He saw clear, unmarred skin. He saw a boy: young, vibrant, bursting with life and energy. He saw his—his--

The scarred man shifted uncomfortably. Haise’s grip tightened. “Who are you really?” he whispered, voice cracking.

“Sasaki…”

“Who are you to me? What were we before I fucked it up?”

Nagachika swallowed uncomfortably. “Please let go.”

He didn’t, but the man slipped away and he did nothing to stop him. A pattering of footsteps ran against the pavement, and Haise was alone. He hunched over.

“Don’t leave,” he whispered too late.

* * *

 

He didn’t have Nagachika’s phone number, address, or any other information about him. He considered looking up the name in the government database to find out what he could, but stopped himself. _Wait_. The man would find him if he wanted to. So he had to wait. And if he didn’t want to? _Then I can’t just force my presence on him can I?_

Over the next few days, Akira, Arima, and the CCG seemed to grow more and more distant to him. Not because they acted differently around him, but just that they seemed more and more unreal, as though their words couldn’t reach him. He felt distant, out of place. Only the Quinx remained tangible to him. He attended :re as many times as he could without seeming obsessive. He waited. He hoped.

It happened in a back alley, not the way he’d hoped for. He’d been on a mission and had gotten separated from the Quinx squad. In the midst of his worry— _Would Urie behave? Would Mutsuki be okay?_ —he’d run into a member of Aogiri. Black Rabbit. And then—

Well, he didn’t even know.

_103 bones. Blood. More blood. The color blue. Centipede in the ear. That’s not the right Rabbit. That’s not right._

He fought. He felt the cracking of bones underneath his kagune. He tasted blood and flesh, felt it dripping and spewing from his mouth. He felt pain. Felt himself sliced with a thousand needles one moment, struck another. And—

“Godamn Eyepatch. Goddamn Kaneki.”

And then the pain came from himself, from his head, from his back, from every limb that twisted without his consent. He burned. He bled. He hurt. He lashed out, not at his opponent but at anything in his way. Stone. Brick. Steel. Flesh. Bone.

“Enough.” He felt his head tilt, as though it were too heavy for his tired neck. He blinked, trying to find the voice in the haze around him. He saw the shadow of Rabbit, injured and bloody but alive, limping away. He lunged.

“Stop! Enough, man! You need to stop this.”

He stopped, and his body snapped around toward the voice like a wild animal when it caught the scent of better prey. Or like a puppet on strings that had just been whipped around. He saw a face.

“Just let him go. This isn’t you. I won’t let you do this to him. I won’t let you do this to yourself.”

The face. He could make out the features, but for some reason recognition escaped him. _Who?_ The blurriness began to clear, but he lurched. _Where?_ And suddenly he felt all the disgusting blood over himself.

“You need to get control. If you don’t, they’ll kill you. Right?”

There was a figure, a body in his way. He focused on that. He hurled his kagune up to strike. A small, tentative grasp on his arm stopped him. Not an embrace, not even a firm grip to pull him out of the madness. Instead, the tiniest tug against his sleeve; a gesture that seemed like it had been intended to be bolder, but lost heart halfway. He could feel the violent shakes running through Nagachika’s body.

_Nagachika_.

He collapsed, curling in on himself and crying. “I’m sorry. I’m sorryimsorryimsorry…”

“It’s not your fault,” the murmur rustled Haise’s ear, and the half-ghoul took it as a sign to throw himself on his friend and bury his weeping in the other man’s shirt.The fog had almost completely cleared now. He remembered where he was, his mission. He looked up, and saw Nagachika’s pained face in in dim light of the alley. He also noticed how the scarred man had positioned his hands: ready to push Haise away.

“I-I need to go,” Nagachika mumbled. “Please let go.”

He didn’t. Instead, he pulled the man closer. The simple contact turned into a wrangle as Nagachika struggled and tried to pull away. The other man began to hyperventilate, panicking just like the time they’d met on the sidewalk. The way he had just before he had left—a terrifying thought to Haise. Nagachika couldn’t leave. It was impossible.

“Stop. Let… me…”

“How can you say that? How can you tell me not to blame myself and then push me away? Don’t act like I need to forgive myself when you can’t forgive me!”

Nagachika’s face was about five inches away, but Haise didn’t see the scars. He could only see the eyes. The rich brown strains of texture in the irises. The rapid dilation of the pupils as Haise loomed closer. The tears that collected at the edges.

Haise had his arms wrapped around the other’s waist. Under his hold, he could feel the fearful— _bothersome_ —breaths from the other man’s lungs, but he pulled him closer and held, crushed. The whisper that escaped him cracked. “Please don’t be afraid of me. You’re not supposed to be afraid.”

The scarred man beat his fists against him. Pushed. Writhed. Then, he started to weaken. His brutalized lips moved, trying to speak. The tiny distance between the two of them began to close.

“Tou-ka,” gasped out Nagachika, strangled into a volume lower than a whisper while turning his head away. “H-help.”

It all ended with a blow to Haise’s head, following by hacking, desperate sound of Nagachika gasping and choking, which melted into a swirl of familiar voices.

“Hide? Are you okay?”

“Why didn’t you use the intercom earlier?”

“He was gonna k-kill me. He really was gonna…”

A panicked sob ripped through the night air, and Haise passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I think that escalated pretty quickly. Ehhh, I don't have the patience to write a long fic where shit doesn't hit the fan until chapter ten. This will be a pretty short fic anyway, so I don't feel like I have time to dawdle. Feel free to tell me if you disagree!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not feeling good about this, but I hope someone out there enjoys it! 
> 
> Please comment on anything. Criticism is welcome.

The next few days were so ordinary—so removed from the reality he had experienced in the alley—that they seemed like a dream. A dream that slowly strangled him.

He wandered back to the park bench where he and Nagachika had spoken. He walked back up the sidewalk leading to :re, but didn’t enter. He would stay right against the wall beside the window to the café, leaning so that no one inside could catch a glimpse of him. When the Quinx wanted to go there after a mission, he smiled and told them to go on in without him.

“I just need some fresh air. I’m not really in the mood for coffee right now.”

He saw the glances the squad members exchanged with each other. Confused. Worried.

“Whatever you feel like you need to do, boss,” Shirazu said quickly. Mutsuki opened his mouth, about to say something. But he closed it and nodded. “Would you like us to bring you anything?”

He shook his head.

He sat on the nearest bench, allowing himself to double over in exhaustion once his squad members weren’t watching. When Mutsuki tapped his shoulder, he nearly jumped.

“Sir? Um, the lady… the lady in there said to give this to you.”

The boy shoved a package in Sasaki’s hands and ran back to the coffee shop. It took a moment for him to open the package. Inside was a phone and a piece of paper. The message on the paper was simple. It gave a number and ordered him to call it immediately. He did, fingers shaking.

“Hey,” he managed.

“Hey,” replied Nagachika, chuckling awkwardly. “Took you long enough to get to :re.”

Haise gripped the cell phone. Hearing his voice wasn't a surprise; he'd suspected that was the point of handing him a phone at all. Still, his tongue refused to form words. “You… in the alley.”

“Yeah. I was there.” Haise stood up, looking around as though he could find the scarred man. He didn’t.

“Do you remember what happened?”

“I remember you in the alley. I remember I-I messed up. Again. That I hurt you.” He swallowed.

“Oh,” Nagachika replied.

“I’m sorry. There aren’t enough times I can say that, is there?”

“It’s okay.” He felt his lip tremble. He made for an alley and stood in a corner where the passersby couldn’t see.

“Haise? Are you there?”

“Y-yeah.”

“There’s a lot I wanted to talk to you about, but I don’t know if it would mean anything to you.”

“Just... please say what you want.”

“Okay. Do you remember our third year of highschool?”

“We went to high school together?”

“That’s what I thought.” Haise thought he could hear a bitter smile flavoring Nagachika’s tone. “Well, in high school there were these two friends we had. Not really big friends, but people we talked to occasionally. A guy and a girl. We had known them in middle school, too, and back then they’d been inseparable. Always running after each other. Always walking home from school together. Always joining the same clubs and stuff. Always sticking up for each other. Everyone was convinced they would get married.”

“I don’t remember…”

“It’s okay. I wouldn’t have expected you to remember them. I haven’t seen them in years and as far as I know you haven’t either. That’s not the point. The point is: when they were in their last year of high school they hardly saw each other and had gotten new friends in completely separate social circles. They hadn’t had a big fight or anything, but they had just grown apart. You thought that was too sad. You were all like, ‘They should be friends forever! How can they just forget about each other like that?!’”

“Did I say that?”

“Yeah. And I said that it seemed like that was normal. Most people didn’t keep friends that long, and it’s pretty common for people to feel like someone is their most important person for a while and then not feel anything toward them in a few years. You were really upset with me when I said that. So I promised that we wouldn’t be like that. That we’d stick together no matter what. Ring any bells?”

“No. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Nagachika said. He paused. Then: “Is there anything you remember? Anything at all?”

“Nothing good.”

“Okay. That’s a shame. There’s so much good stuff for you to remember. I don’t want you to lose that. Anyway, I’m rambling, but I had a point.” Haise heard a gulp on the other side of the line. “I’m not going to be able to keep that promise.”

For a moment, all background noise had been stripped away. “What do you mean?” he asked hoarsely.

“I mean, this is the last time we’re gonna talk. Being together forever didn’t work out. So I’m trying to say everything I need to now. Haise, do you want your memories back?”

“I—no, I...”

“Are you sure? Is that really what you want? Because if you wanted to remember, I could give you places to go, things that might bring them back. If there’s anything you want to know, you could ask right now and I could tell you as much as possible. Maybe that would make you remember, but even if it didn’t you would know. Also, I could direct you to people who could help y-”

“I don’t care about any of that!” he interrupted. “This is the last time we’re going to talk? Why? Why does it have to be the last time? You can’t just say that and then move on like it doesn’t matter!”

He had shouted. The stunned silence on the other side of the phone made him feel sick.

“It’s because you can’t stand me, isn’t it?” he asked, “It’s because I’m a monster.”

“No! God, Ka-Haise, you’re not a monster! Never say that again. You’re a good person. A good person who had bad things happen to him. A good person that ended up doing s-some things that were wrong because of it, but not a monster.”

“Liar,” he spat out, sad and angry, “You don’t think that. If you thought that, you wouldn’t act like this! You wouldn’t push me away.”

Silence again. The sound of Haise’s rushing, angry blood pounded in his ears.

“You don’t really forgive me. You hate me.”

“No.”

“Yes, you do,” Haise had to bite his lip for a moment. His throat ached, raw and scratchy. “You can just say it you know. You deserve to hate me, after what I did.”

He heard a sharp intake of breath from the other side of the phone. “Will you listen to me? I don’t hate you. I could never hate you. But you’re right about one thing: I can’t stand being near you.” Nagachika’s voice cracked a little. “I can’t stand being around you because I’m afraid of you.”

“But-”

“Listen, okay? Just listen. It’s not because you’re a ghoul. Not quite. I knew before that you were, and it didn’t make a difference to me. So it’s not that. Don’t you dare even think it was that. It’s not. It’s… okay, do you remember what happened in the sewers? How I got my little makeover?”

“B-bits and pieces.”

“Okay. It wasn’t your fault. You were delirious, injured, and starving. You looked ready to attack anything in sight. I came up anyway. You attacked me, started to eat me. And I had figured that would happen, b-but… but I…” Nagachika took a deep breath. “The way you did it was horrible. It was torture. It felt like you were ripping me up in some places without eating me and then just… just...t-toying with me. Chewing. You broke some of my bones. You didn’t have to do that. You didn’t get anything from that. And my face—my face—why would you even go after my face? I mean, there’s not a lot of meat there! It was terrifying, and it hurt so bad… and… and…”

“I’m sorry,” Haise whimpered. “And you just… laughed. I mean, what the hell? I know you probably don’t remember it. Maybe it was a nervous laugh or something, not intended to be mocking at all, maybe not at me or anything. Maybe I misheard, or imagined it, or hallucinated, b-but after that? I couldn’t convince myself that you didn’t hate me.”

Haise choked. He felt tears start to roll down his face.

“How could I hate you?”

“I don’t know! I don’t know! I hadn’t done anything to you that I was aware of! But you know, bleeding out in the sewers, I suddenly started thinking up a lot of different reasons. After all, you’d left without telling me before, right? You’d never trusted me enough to tell me that you were a ghoul. I started to think that maybe I’d misread everything. Maybe you despised me. Maybe that’s why you disappeared without bothering to tell me you were okay.”

“I’m sure… that’s not true.”

“How do you know? _How do you know?_ You don’t even remember. Maybe it was because I started working for the CCG. Maybe that’s why you were angry. Or maybe you’d just come to hate all humans. Or maybe, it wasn’t hate. Maybe you’d never cared for me in the first place.”

He shook his head, heedless of how Nagachika couldn’t see it. “No, no, that can’t be right!”

“Maybe I was only ever a convenience. Or someone you’d found annoying but stuck around simply because I was someone to talk to. Maybe I was just background noise to you. Or maybe I’d done something that made you secretly resent me all those years, and it all came out then.”

Haise gulped. His face twisted for a moment. “I know I don’t hate you. I know you matter to me now, and I’ve only met you three times. I can’t believe you never mattered to me.”

“I… think you’re right. But it took me years and a lot of patience from Touka and Ni—and other people to realize that. And even if logically I’ve decided it’s unlikely that you hated me or whatever, it still doesn’t feel real to me.” He took a deep breath. “Do you know what it was like in the hospital ward? Hell. Pure hell. I was stuck in there and no one came to visit me. No one even knew who I was. I couldn’t speak for the first month. I was too—distressed to say anything. Sometimes, they had to hold me down to give me medication because I didn’t understand what was going on and I’d struggle. I… went insane. Literally. They locked me up once I'd healed.”

He listened. There was nothing to do but listen, even as he felt sicker and sicker in his heart.

“When I left, I was still pretty messed up. I kept having nightmares of you, the way you were that night. I couldn’t stand to think of you during the day. When I did, I’d sometimes panic. But I didn’t hate you. I never hated you. When I found out that you had disappeared and no one knew what had happened… when I’d thought you’d died, I almost…” he stopped, his voice cracking. “It practically killed me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you were the most important thing in my entire life for so long. Then you up and left without so much as a goodbye, and I didn’t know what to do. I-I spent so much time trying to find you, to make sure you were alright. You don’t know that. There’s no way for you to know everything I’ve done, but… after all that, there’s no way my feelings could just turn to hate. Still I… I need to break from the past. I need to put everything that’s happened behind me. For my own sanity. So that’s why this is the last time.”

Everything seemed to swirl around him. He grasped through his brain, reaching for anything that might fix this.

“Haise, is there anything you want to say?”

“I can’t do anything to make it better? Anything to atone? There has to be something…”

“No. What’s happened has happened. It wasn’t your fault, but I need to get away. And after the alley a few nights ago… you almost crushed me to death. I can’t… risk something like that again. Please don’t ask.”

“Don’t ask?” Haise’s fist curled up, “Don’t even ask? How can I not? I feel… I don’t know you, but I feel like if I never see you again, I’ll die. Like nothing has had a point.”

“I-I’m... so sorry you feel that way. I'm sorry to do this to you. But I need to be honest… I can’t stick around, but I didn’t want to just up and leave without explaining, or telling you what happened, like… never mind. Anyway, it wouldn’t have bothered you before, so you can get over it now.”

Quick, dispassionate. Like a punch in the gut. Haise slammed his fist against the wall. “Don’t pin something on me that I don’t remember! I don’t know anything about what I would have done before.”

“But you never needed me around before. That’s just a statement of fact.” Nagachika took a deep breath. “Also, there are other people out there for you. I know it might not seem like it right now, because you don’t know who you are and you’re surrounded by people that you think might just be using you, but there are people out there who love you and want the best for you. You just need to find them. You’ll be okay. I know you will. And—shit I’m running out of time. I need to wrap this up in a minute.”

Haise gulped. “No, no, don’t… can’t we meet sometime in the future? When you’ve had enough time…?”

“Sorry, but I can’t do that. It’s possible, but… It’ll probably take so long, that by the time I would none of this will matter. By that time, one of us could be dead, or moved on. By that time, you might have remembered and decided you don’t want to see me, or you might have forgotten everything entirely. I'm not going to tell you to hold out for false hope.”

“That’s not…”

“This is it. I don’t have much time. Don’t waste it on this.”

“Just another half an hour! This is too… too sudden. I need more time.”

A shaky sigh from the other side of the phone.

“Haise, please…”

“Fifteen minutes then! You can stay on that long can’t you?”

Nagachika spoke again, his voice thick with emotion. Somehow, though, Haise felt like he heard a smile of hope and warmth underneath, like sun breaking through gray clouds. “Keep going to bookstores. Don’t be afraid to open up to new people like your squadmates, but only when you know you can trust them. Look for the people that mattered to you before.”

“Stop it.” He felt tears well up in his eyes again. They started to drip down. His heart pounded, anticipating the moment when the phone would shut off. 

“Remember to keep going to :re. Touka has no problem with you going there, so you shouldn’t stop yourself because of this bullshit with me. Go to her. She’ll help you if you want it. And… god, there’s so much more I wanted to say,” Nagachika’s voice broke a little. “Just take care of yourse-”

“Shut up! Don’t do this… don’t hang up. Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me to wonder what’s happened to you. How will I know you’re safe if you just go like this? How will I know you’re alright? Please… Hide.”

Dead silence. Haise’s heart lurched, slamming in his chest. _What did I just…?_

“You called me ‘Hide’ again.” The scarred man’s voice blubbered out. He sniffled, and let out what could have been a laugh or a sob. “I’m so glad you remembered. Thank you. I really did love you.”

Haise froze. His jaw slackened, and his mouth hung open. He could hear in the tone-the scratchiness and pain in his friend's voice. That wasn't an "I love you" between friends. That was a confession.

“I had a lot more I wanted to say, but I suppose that’s all it really came down to.”

“Hide, wait-”

The phone clicked off as Hide hung up.

Haise collapsed, curled up against the wall of the alley, and let the tears flow. It was the last time he’d ever hear Hide’s voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah... so... anyone notice the "failed relationships" tag I put on this? Just wondering.
> 
> Sorry.


	4. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I replied to a commentator on the last chapter that maybe the Tokyo Ghoul anime finale would have something to make them happy. I apologize for that. I was wrong.
> 
> I also apologize for this chapter. It doesn't feel quite right to me, and I feel like the writing quality has slipped. So feel free to tell me if something doesn't work for you.

He looked up, unsteady on his feet. He tried to find the sky, only to see blinding white. Perhaps it was the sun, or some bizarre hallucination. Something brushed his hand—another hand perhaps? His fingers twitched to grab it but got nothing.

“What will I do now?” he murmured.

A rabbit. There was a white rabbit down the path in front of him. He could have sworn it was looking at him.

_Dumbass._

It hopped off. He ran after it, only to collide with one stranger, then another. A thick crowd moved in the opposite direction, indifferent to his attempts to get past. He bounced off one after another, never getting past. The rabbit vanished from his sight.

“Let me through,” he demanded softly at first before shouting. “Let me go!”

It seemed the crowd didn’t hear. The tide of faceless, indomitable strangers continued, towering over him and eventually forcing him back. He fell and then they

.

.

.

He was lying on his back, but he still couldn’t see the sky. The crowd moved on, trampling him. It was suddenly hard to get air. He choked, tried to suck in the air around him. Instead, his lungs burned. His sight turned pitch black.

Something brushed against his hand again. He didn’t try to grasp it this time. Instead, this time it grasped his hand, entwining fingers with his. He flinched for a moment, then opened his eyes.

The crowd had gone. He could see the sky this time. Cloudless blue, and the sun had come out. A familiar face smiled warmly at him.

“Hi-Hide,” he gasped.

Hide grasped his hand tighter.

“You came back… you came back to me.” He reached forward to

.

.

.

He couldn’t remember any of the names for the constellations. He wanted to. He wanted to point them out to Hide from the playground set they sat on top of.

“I think I knew them before,” he said, “Like those, right there… that’s the big dipper. But its Latin name is… is… I can’t remember.”

“It’s okay, man. You think I'm gonna judge you for not knowing some Latin? Pfft.”

He looked at Hide, and leaned back.

“We used to come here as kids, didn’t we? I’m sorry I don’t remember.”

“Hey, K----i, if you were a ghoul, would you eat Yoshikawa? Because you like her?”

He turned, confused.

“What?”

But suddenly Hide’s hand was on his, and their lips touched. A kiss. But he felt only a tingle of pressure from it. It was like being kissed by air, or fresh-spun cotton candy. He leaned into the kiss and

.

.

.

He smiled at the back of Hide’s head. They walked, and he took a moment just to appreciate the unkempt strands of hair sticking out from where his orange headphones circled his neck.

“You know, I just remembered something.”

“What’s that?” Hide asked without turning around.

“I used to be afraid. Afraid that you would find out I was a ghoul. Afraid that we’d never walk like this again.”

His friend stopped and turned around. A smile spread over his face, so painfully forced that it worried him.

“Hide…?” He lurched, suddenly unbalanced again. He tried to support himself, but everything around him had disappeared. He looked back up at his Hide’s pained smile.

“Hide, there are no scars on your face.” His heart stopped. “What does that mean? How did they just disappear? Hide? Hide?”

“Dumbass,” the rabbit said, “You-”

.

.

.

He pulled Hide closer, wrapping his arms around him tightly.

“You’re warm,” Hide laughed, leaning his forehead against his shoulder.

Was he warm? He couldn’t tell. He didn’t feel any warmth. He couldn’t feel anything, not even the weight of his friend in his arms.

“Can we stay like this?”

"Mm-hm."

He blinked. Something wasn't right. He was forgetting something. Something important that had happened.

"You said you loved me.Just like that: past tense. I guess that means you don't now." He squeezed his arms around him. "I'm sorry. I never got to tell you that I-"

.

.

.

“I was afraid we’d never be able to walk like this again.”

Blood everywhere. Tears. A bright smile.

“Sorry man. You were right: we can’t.”

.

.

.

Haise woke up crying and alone.

* * *

 

He wasn’t used to :re being this quiet. Then again, he’d never been in after closing time. He thought that it might have been a mistake to come, but he had nowhere else at a time like this. Going back to the Quinx in this state was unacceptable. Besides, Hide had told him to go so…

_Hide._

He sat at the counter, resisting the urge to plant his face in in his hands and his hands against the counter surface while he sobbed his heart out.He didn’t have to worry about other customers seeing, but the soft eyes of the waitress were enough to hold him back.

“Hide… left. He doesn’t want to see me again.”He swallowed. “He was… my friend.”

Touka Kirishima nodded quietly.

“It’s my fault.”

“Kind of,” she said. “Kind of not at the same time. Either way, sitting around and beating yourself up over it won’t help anything.”

He lowered his head. “Where did he go?”

She scoffed. “I wouldn’t tell you even if I knew.”

“I want to find him. I have to see him again, at least once.”

“Why?” she asked. “Do you think it would really make things better?”

He didn’t answer.

“Hide is your friend, right? If you care about him, you should respect his wishes.” She let out a breath for a moment, looking off in the distance. “You know, he’d been getting so much better. In the last month or so he’d started smiling again. Really smiling. Laughing in that dumb way of his. Then you popped in.”

Haise winced.

“That’s when he became all twitchy and sad again. But don’t feel bad,” she mumbled, “It can’t be helped. You just happened to come across each other because you came to the same café. He wouldn’t want you to beat yourself up. He always wanted you to be happy, you know?”

“I know. He… said so.”

“Yeah.” The sound of the coffee maker filled the silence. Haise clenched his fists.

“What if something happens to him though?” he murmured, “I just have this feeling that he’s not safe. I should be there to make sure nothing happens. To make it up to him. That’s the least I should do. I need to protect him.”

“Dumbass.” He should have been shocked to hear course language from the beautiful waitress with gentle eyes, but for some reason it felt familiar. Comforting, even, considering the gentle way she intoned it. “Don’t you get it? You have no business protecting him, not the way you think you do. No one wants you to be their self-sacrificing knight in shining armor. Okay? And if you think that going against his desire to leave out of some idea that it’s for his own good is a swell idea, then you’re wrong. He’s an adult, you know? He can make his own decisions and protect himself.”

His eyes started to sting, but he nodded. He still didn’t meet Kirishima’s eyes.

“Look,” she said, “Just be honest with yourself. You don’t want to follow him to protect him. You want to follow him because you’re afraid of being left alone.”

He grit his teeth, trying to keep himself from the sobbing he’d been tempted to before.

“I understand. It must be hard, not remembering anything… finding the one person who you want to remember and then losing them. That’d be rough. I can’t even imagine.”

He sniffled. Then, before he could respond, she slid a mug of black coffee to him. He looked up. She smiled down at him, gently. “You should respect his other wish too, you know.”

“Other wish?” he asked.

She blew out a bit of air, annoyed. “His wish for you to find your own happiness, idiot.”

He looked away, then took the coffee. As he sipped, she went back to cleaning up the area behind the counter, starting with wiping the last of the dishes. He brought his head up to look at her, but found his gaze wandering to her phone sitting behind the counter. More accurately, to the white rabbit phone charm. His eyes stung with tears again.

“Kirishima… no, Touka.”

She stiffened at her name, a glass in one hand and a towel in the other.

 _Of course_. That was why Hide had wanted him to come back here.

_There are others that love you, if you can find them._

_There’s so much good stuff for you to remember. I don’t want you to lose that._

Maybe there was more than just some monster that needed to be buried lurking in his past. Maybe there were things—people—that would be wrong to just forget. People like Hide.

“Touka, please tell me everything. I want to know who I was.”

A moment’s hesitation. He held his breath. The glass clinked softly as she set it on the counter.

END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! As it turns out, another meeting didn't happen in this chapter. Sorry to disappoint everyone, and to tease it happening at the beginning. Was it obvious that that was a dream? I want to know if you people figured it out immediately. Also about the first half--I tried to be all artsy by cutting off the sentences. Hope it worked and wasn't super annoying.
> 
> So, for anyone depressed by this, here's what I'm thinking of. I'm thinking of writing more in this universe as a "series," so I might write a sequel to this, where these two meet again. Or I could write about the three years leading up to this from Hide's perspective. Eh. It depends if anyone wants to read either of those things, or if I have the time.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading! And many, MANY thanks to the people who bothered commenting and leaving kudos!


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